


Don't you know baby, I'll be there.

by orphan_account



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AKA 'The 5 reasons Tyler Seguin wanted to ask Brad Marchand to be his daughter's godfather'.</p>
<p>This is what happens when one of the girls from Tyler's 'Stanley Cup Victory Party Tour' brings his baby to his doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't you know baby, I'll be there.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written and posted for the hockey anon meme in late 2011. The 2012 playoffs were then in the future please ignore inaccuracies with the matchups because I used creative licence. I tidied up a few typos but other than that, left the story as was. It's one of my earlier pieces so it's a little rusty. 
> 
> Totally all inspired by this pic: http://fuckyeahnhlguysandcutekids.tumblr.com/post/16618375221

**1\. You were there for both of us from the very beginning.**

Being woken at 5:30am the morning by the incessant buzzing of his doorbell wasn’t exactly Tyler’s favourite way to start the morning, even on a good day. But being awoken in that manner the day after being knocked out in the first round of the playoffs by fucking _Montreal_ of all teams was just torture. He had a pounding headache and wanted nothing more than to sleep until mid afternoon and pretend that the night before didn’t happen, but someone clearly didn’t want him to follow through with that plan and were not going to take their finger of the buzzer until he let them in. He really hoped it wasn't his mother. He loves his mother, but the last thing he needs is his mother fussing all over him when he needs some sleep. Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of bed and padded down the hallway to the door, too tired to muster the energy to formulate a colourfully worded statement about the time as he unlocked the door. He was greeted by the sight of a cute girl in jeans and a Brown University hoodie, dark hair falling out of a messy ponytail. The girl looked kinda familiar, but Tyler couldn’t place where he’d seen her before. 

“Um, hey?”, Tyler mumbled sleepily and rubbed at his eyes. He can’t really get mad at her, not when she looks like she got even less sleep than he did last night and like something is kinda wrong. Besides, even though he could be a bit of a player, his father had always raised him never to be rude a girl. She holds out a pink bag for Tyler to take, asking if she can speak to him for a moment. The Southern Accent. Ah. Now Tyler remembers where he had seen her before. She was one of the Stanley Cup Victory Hookups from last year. Despite what certain websites liked to claim, Tyler wouldn’t say he’d bedded half of New England and Ontario last year, but between Boston and Brampton, there had been about six girls (and a couple of guys too, not that Tyler was ready to admit to anyone that he sortofkindamaybe went both ways just yet) and really, six wasn’t that many. He was a teenager who just won the Stanley Cup in his rookie season, no one could really hold a bit of celebrating against him. Anyway. The girl. He remembers now. He’d been in a bar with Brad and Milan and she was there with a friend. Tyler thought she was totally adorable, they had a couple of drinks, ended up back at his place and she was gone by the time he woke up. He thinks her name might be Amanda, but he doesn’t risk calling her that in case he is wrong, and he doesn’t want to ask because then he will look like an asshole for forgetting it. 

He steps through to the living room, setting the bag down on the couch, and as he turns around, he sees the girl backing a stroller through the door. A baby. She has a baby? 

“So. Um. She’s yours. From um. That night back in June....I don't know if you remember. Anyway. Like. You’re the only guy I’ve ever....you know, been with....”. She chews on her lip nervously, too embarrassed to look Tyler in the eye, probably praying he doesn’t question her or tell her he has forgotten about it all. 

_He has a baby?_

Tyler tries to speak, but he has no idea what to say and he suddenly wishes he put a shirt on before answering the door, because he feels kinda awkward standing there in just his faded grey sweatpants. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to some find words, any words at all, but nothing seems to form in his brain. He looks over at the girl, hoping that maybe she can explain some more and it will give him the time to figure out what to say. 

“Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone it’s yours. You know, my parents don’t even know I had a baby. They’re back down in Louisiana, they’d disown me if they knew. I mean, they’re super religious and I’m not even 19 until next month and I'm not married. My best friend and roommate up here knew, they’ve been great to me, I told them it was a one night thing and I didn’t know who the father was because I didn’t want gossip or anything. I tried so hard to do this, but I just can’t. It’s been a month and I’m just getting worse at this. And I need to finish school, I don’t have any money, my whole place could fit into your living room. I have exams coming up and if I don’t pass this semester they will kick me out. You seem like a nice guy and you’re her so, I don’t know. I thought you’d be better at this”. 

Tyler instantly hates himself for not speaking because now he just feels like an asshole that she has been struggling so much. He wishes he would have known because he could have helped her. Still gaping in shock, he manages to stammer out “if money is the problem, I can help, and I could watch her and stuff too?”. 

She smiles a little, but shakes her head. “No, I just can’t do this at all, I’m sorry, Tyler”. 

Tyler closes the distance between them with 4 steps, and places his hands on her shoulders, hoping it comforts, reassures her, something, and is relieved when she doesn’t push him away from her. “No, I mean it. I can help you, anything you need, not just money. But don’t worry, I have money. We will work out, ok. Seriously, just wait there for a moment”. She nods. 

Tyler dashes back down the hallway into his room, cursing himself instantly for having such a messy place because it takes him over two minutes to locate his wallet (In the back pocket of his suit pants he left on the bathroom floor last night). He doesn’t usually keep much cash on him, but is glad to find there are a few bills in there. He takes the money out, probably about $350 all up, and even though it isn’t much, it is something for now and he can always go and get her some more from the bank at a more civilised hour later in the day. 

He returns to the living room with the money to find the girl is no longer there, and a quick look around his apartment confirms what he feared: that she is gone all together. The stroller is still there, and Tyler kneels in front of it, carefully lifting the top up to see a tiny baby girl in a pink and white striped onesie. She looks up at him with big brown eyes, the same as his own, and his stomach does a gigantic backflip because this is his daughter and even though he’s only known her a few minutes, he is pretty sure he already loves her. 

It is only then Tyler realizes he doesn’t even know his own daughter’s name.

By 10am, the baby is crying and Tyler doesn’t know what to do. He tore apart the diaper bag she left him with, hoping to find a birth certificate or phone number, but comes up with nothing other than some bottles, diapers and a few changes of clothes. He can’t call his parents, because they will kill him for being in this situation in the first place and he is still holding onto some stupid and naive hope that Louisiana girl is coming back soon, they will work out some arrangement together and he can bring it up with his parents then. He can’t call one of the guys on the team with kids, because even though he is pretty sure Tim or Nathan would come around if he asked, they’d surely bring their wife with them, and given how much women like to gossip, it would be all over Boston by dinnertime. But Tyler knows he can’t handle this by himself, so he gets his phone and calls the only person he can think of, apologising for waking him up (of course he was still asleep) before telling him it is an emergency and to please come around to his apartment ASAP. 

Brad walks through the door less than an hour later, noticing the stroller immediately, raising an eyebrow, but saying nothing until Tyler explains the whole situation to him. Thankfully, Brad doesn’t walk out, or call him an idiot, but instead, walks to the stroller and picks up the baby, introducing himself as her Uncle Brad, mock shaking her tiny hand with his index finger. He asks what her name is and looks to Tyler, who shrugs in response. Brad gives him a strange look and Tyler explains that he doesn’t know because he stupidly didn’t think to ask because he was so shocked. Brad doesn’t press it for now, settling for calling her Princess. She seems to like Brad, if the fact she has stopped crying is any indication. 

Tyler didn’t realise how tiny the little girl was until he sees her cradled in Brad’s arms, a thought he verbalizes without even thinking. Brad asks if he has held her yet, and Tyler shakes his head, explaining he was too scared of breaking her. Brad laughs and tells Tyler to sit down on the couch, and once he is settled, he puts the baby in his friend’s arms. Tyler’s heart feels like it has swelled right up, and he guesses this is the feeling his mother was describing when telling him what it was like the first time she held him after he was born. She really is tiny. Brad takes his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture for Tyler, figuring it is the kind of moment he’d want to have a picture of forever, but Tyler is so wrapped up in the baby he doesn’t even notice Brad snapping a picture. Brad slips the phone back into his pocket, and it takes saying his name 6 times before Tyler realizes Brad is speaking to him and looks up at his friend. 

Brad just looks at Tyler for a few seconds before speaking, making sure he had his friend’s undivided attention. “You know I’m here right? Anything you need”, he says. 

Tyler has never been great with words, but he hopes his “Thanks, Marshy” properly conveys just how grateful he is to Brad right now.

**2\. You gave her a name.**

The first five days with his new daughter are without question the craziest, most uncertain days of Tyler’s life, but somehow he figures it out, largely thanks to Brad who seems to have some secret talent as a baby whisperer. He worked out how to make her formula, how to put a diaper on her properly and he’d managed to get all her baby supplies without getting it plastered all over the internet. Tyler asks him how he managed that and he explains that he called Babys R Us and enlisted the help of a lovely lady by the name of Michelle, telling her he wanted to play a realistic prank on a teammate by filling his apartment with baby crap, and she put it aside for him and all he had to do was pick it up from the back of the store. 

Tyler has a meeting with his agent in the afternoon that he’d completely forgotten about. He wasn’t exactly ready to bring the subject up with him just yet because knowing James, the first thing he’d suggest would be telling his parents. It’s bad enough Brad has been on his case for the last three days, saying that Louisiana girl clearly isn’t coming back and he should call his mother. He doesn’t need it coming from anyone else on top of it because Brad is like a dog with a bone with his nagging. Tyler walks into the kitchen and puts some bread in the toaster, wondering how he is going to manage this one when he is meant to be there in an hour when Brad walks in. “She is asleep, I’ve got her, go to your meeting, take as long as you need' and Tyler thanks him profusely. Most people would say leaving Brad Marchand alone with a baby was asking for disaster, but Brad was so good with her and if anything, Tyler was the one who probably shouldn’t be left alone with the baby, even if he was the one who fathered her. 

Tyler returns from his meeting to see Brad sitting on the couch, baby cradled in his left arm, and what appears to be a book in his right hand. 

“You can read? Since when?” he asks and Brad responds by flipping him off. 

Tyler doesn’t even own any books and the last time he attempted to read a book was some Gatsby thing in High School and he ended up just reading the plotline off that Sparknotes website. He really hopes Brad isn’t reading her Maxim or something, and is relieved to see that the cover says “Goldilocks and the Three Bears”. Brad looks a little embarrassed as he tells Tyler he brought it for her yesterday. Tyler smiles, remembering the story as one of the ones his grandmother would read to him and his sisters. “My nana had that book at her house.....but she’d be too young to understand it though”. 

Brad shrugs. “Yeah, but she seems to like being read to. It settled her down when she was being cranky half an hour ago, and besides, I thought reading to her from a young age might just stop her from ending up a complete dumbass like her Daddy”. 

Tyler takes the book from Brad’s hand and jokingly whacks Marshy over the head with it, before going into the kitchen for a glass of water. 

“I’m serious, dude. With your DNA, she hasn’t got a chance unless we start young to fight that natural Seguin stupidity”, Brad chirps at Tyler’s retreating back. 

Chirping loser or not, Tyler was really ridiculously lucky to have Brad around. He finishes his water and places the glass in the sink, making his way back into the living room to see the book discarded, Brad now talking to the little pink bundle in his arms. “You tired Rosie?”. 

“Rosie?” Tyler asks. 

“Her cheeks”.

Tyler looks at Brad as if he just announced he is never having sex again for the rest of his life. Brad laughs and shakes his head, wondering how Tyler can be so dense sometimes. 

“Her cheeks, Segs. She has really rosey red cheeks, look”. Tyler studies his daughter’s face, and sure enough, Brad is right. Her features are so small, but her cheeks are distinctively pink. 

“She looks like you on your draft day”. Tyler groans at the memory, mentally cursing Brad for bringing it up. He was so nervous that day that he completely burned up under the warmth of his suit and hockey jersey and his cheeks were bright pink in nearly every picture taken after Boston had selected him. He’d taken a whole lot of crap from his friends over it during the last couple of years. 

“Oh come off it Segs, it’s adorable”. 

Tyler rolls his eyes at Brad. “Oh her, yeah, because she is little and cute. On me? Not so much”. 

\---

The next night, Tyler is struggling to settle his daughter and Brad is actually sleeping at this own place for the first time in a week, saying he should probably give some signs of life in his own building before his well meaning but nosy elderly neighbour starts to think he’s died or something and sends the police around. When Brad left after dinner, Tyler worried instantly about how he was going to handle the baby, but he didn’t dare say that to Brad. 

“Awwww, Rosie, I know you miss Brad, but you know what’s really nice? Sleep. You should get all the sleep you can because when you’re my age, you never end up getting enough and you will regret throwing away your chance to sleep now”. The baby responds by crying even louder, and Tyler curses, wondering why the hell he is so bad at this daddy thing. He walks out into the living room, picking up the book Brad got her and starts reading it to his daughter. At first, he can barely hear his own voice over her cries, but she starts to settle, and a few minutes later, she is asleep again. Tyler looks at the book and sighs. Since when was Brad so fucking smart?

As frustrating as his daughter’s reluctance to sleep during the night was, Tyler was pretty thankful for the fact that once she fell asleep, she stayed asleep until 10am, giving him the first proper sleep in he’d had in days. The nickname Brad had given his daughter seemed to have stuck, if the fact he’d been calling her Rosie all day was any indication. It was a cute little name and it was definitely better than not having something to call her. It is kinda quiet though, just the two of them, and he contemplates texting Brad, but thinks better of it. He has damn well imposed on Brad way too much over the last week and a half and he can’t really blame Brad for wanting a break from dealing with a baby. He loves his daughter, but god, the lack of sleep was really starting to kill him, and he was already looking forward to the day she was toilet trained because it was beyond him how something so little and cute could put something in her diapers that stinks so much.

But that didn’t mean that Tyler wasn’t really glad when Brad used his keys to let himself into the apartment around 5. Brad sits the take-out bag on the kitchen table before making a beeline down the hall to Tyler’s room, scooping the baby out of her crib with a “My Rosiecheeks! Your uncle Brado missed you”. He walks back into the kitchen to see Tyler tearing into a chicken drumstick as if he hadn’t seen food in a month. 

“God, Rosie, I hope you don’t inherit your Daddy’s lack of table manners one day”. 

“You’re going to have to give her a real name, Segs”. Brad knows it’s not his place to name Tyler’s daughter, so he leaves it at that, sitting her in her rocker by the door before helping himself to a chicken wing before Tyler eats the whole damn box of chicken pieces. 

Tyler sighs. Brad is right. Of course he is. He is always right. 

Later that night, they find themselves sitting in front of the TV to watch the 3rd game of the Western conference semis. Tyler didn’t really care about the outcome because both the fl and the Hawks could lose for all he cared, but morbid curiosity oh who’d take the cup had gotten the better of Brad. He seemed adamant they should cheer for Vancouver to win the whole thing, because they were the only Canadian team left in it not named Montreal. 

Tyler asked Brad if he had a kink for having his finger’s bitten and was met with a “Depends who is biting them,” response.

“Would you let me bite your fingers, Brado”, Tyler teases.

“Oh absolutely, babe.” They both burst into laughter and turn their attention to the match. 

But hockey wasn’t really on Tyler’s mind right now anyway and he’d barely paid attention to the first period, because he has made a decision. A big, important, please-go-down-the-way-I-want-this-to decision. He takes a deep breath, runs a hand through his hair and nudges Brad to get his attention before he loses his nerve. Brad turns towards Tyler, who asks him what he would name a daughter, if he hypothetically had one of his own. Brad raises his eyebrow, knowing exactly what Tyler is trying to do here, but relents when Tyler gives him a look that says ‘just go with me for a moment, please’. After a moment of consideration, Brad tells Tyler he likes the name Elizabeth, but points out that it is cheating to ask him, because it really isn’t his place to name the baby. 

Tyler smiles. 

“Rosie Elizabeth Seguin”. 

Woah. Brad can’t possibly be hearing this right. Has his best mate really just used the two names her picked out for his little girl’s name. 

“Rosie.....because it’s kinda stuck now and it’s a cute name and she’s really cute. And Elizabeth because, well, I thought I’d let you pick her middle name because, I don’t know what to give her as a middle name, and you have been here the whole time, so I thought it would be, you know, nice, and I can’t really make her middle name Bradley or she’ll get teased at school and shit, so....yeah”. 

For the first time since he has known him, Tyler can’t read Brad’s face. His friend almost looks like he is about to cry. Tyler really hopes he hasn’t misread the while situation, and figures a little backtracking might be the best idea right now. “If you don’t want me to name her Rosie though, that’s totally OK”.

Brad shakes his head. “Of course it’s OK you’re using it Segs, I like it actually. It’s.....nice.” 

(Brad would never admit it to anyone else, but he totally cried in the shower later that night. He loved that little girl. Absolutely freaking adored her and Tyler had basically let him name her.)

**3\. You always do what's best for Rosie, even if it might make me mad at you.**

Tyler felt a sense of déjà vu when he was woken by the buzzing of his doorbell at 6 in the morning. It couldn’t be Brad, because he had a set of keys and he prayed it was someone looking for the apartment next to his because he didn’t really have time to try and hide Rosie’s baby things which were strewn across his apartment. As he walked down the hall to answer the door, he found himself saying a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be another girl leaving a baby for him. Not that he didn’t love Rosie of course. In fact, he was starting to think Rosie was the greatest thing ever in his world, and that she was even more awesome than winning the Stanley Cup. It had only been twelve days, almost to the minute, since Rosie came into his life, yet Tyler was pretty sure he was already wrapped firmly around her tiny little pinky finger. But still, there was no way he could handle another baby, when he could barely handle this one without Brad. 

Tyler opens the door to see his mother standing on the other side. 

He suddenly wishes it was another girl dropping off a baby. 

They’re sitting on the couch, Rosie in her grandmother’s arms as his mother explains that Brad called her yesterday saying that no one is hurt or dead, but she should come to Boston straight away because there is an emergency and something Tyler needs to talk to her about. Tyler is relieved that there is a logical explanation for why Brad wasn’t around last night, and it wasn’t because he said something to upset him. 

Telling his mother about Rosie isn’t nearly as scary as he thought it would be, and even though his mother said it would be a lie if she said she was thrilled her 20 year old son had gotten a girl pregnant and didn’t even remember her name, it all seemed to be forgotten the moment Tyler gave Rosie to her to hold. A bashful smile creeps on his face as his mother coos down at Rosie, telling Tyler how beautiful she is. Yeah. His daughter is pretty damn stinking cute, he’s got to say. His mother catches the smile on her son’s face, knowing that same look has been on her face a thousand times before when looking at her own children. 

“So why were you scared to tell me?”, she asks him.

“I thought you’d hate me”. 

“Oh Tyler”. His mother smiles sadly at him, reaching over to squeeze his knee. “Here is something you’re going to learn now. There are times that your child will do something that disappoints you, but it doesn’t mean you’re going to hate them. You’ve disappointed me sometimes, but I still love you. Same with Candace and Cass. You’re not perfect, you’re going screw up but it doesn’t change anything”. Tyler nods, letting his mother continue, because what she was saying seemed pretty damn important. “There are also times when a mistake can end up being a good thing. In a few years, if I were to ask you if you wished you could go back in time and not hook up with that girl that night, you’d say no”. 

“I’d say no now”, Tyler says. And it’s the truth. As hard as looking after Rosie has been over the last couple of weeks, he wouldn’t rather her not exist, and maybe it will be easier now someone other than Brad knows. 

“There you go then”. 

\---

Tyler bundles Rosie up in his car and drives them around to Brad’s apartment. His mother offered to watch Rosie while he went to see Brad, but he decided to bring her along, knowing that Rosie would love to see him and Marshy would probably be a little disappointed if he got Tyler on his doorstep but no Rosie. His mother seemed pretty surprised when Tyler was telling her how good Brad was with her, but she said she was glad she had him around and that Brad is a good guy and she likes him. 

Tyler knocks on the door and Brad answers almost immediately, smiling as he sees them, but only for a moment, as Brad quickly remembers that Tyler could well be here to tell him to never bother speaking to him again and to fuck off for meddling in his life. Rosie is lifting her arm up from the baby carrier the moment she sees Brad, clearly wanting him to take her, and Brad hesitates until Tyler nods at him. Brad takes it as invitation to take the baby carrier from Brad, taking Rosie out of it so he can cradle her in his arms, telling her he missed her yesterday as he steps aside to let Tyler into his apartment. 

“You’re allowed to hate me, Segs”, Brad said, looking up at Tyler, the few inches in height difference between them suddenly feeling like a few feet from Brad’s end, as Tyler looks down at him. 

“Why did you do it?”. Brad is relieved to note that Tyler sounds curious, rather than pissed off and ready to rip his head off with his bare hands. 

“Because you couldn’t. Because....I’m your mate, and isn’t that the point of mates? Having your back, making sure you don’t get arrested, being there when you need something? Your mum needed to know, and you weren’t going to tell her, so.....”

Tyler smiles. “That’s why I don’t hate you. You were trying to be an ass, you did it to help”. 

Tyler sits down on Marshy’s couch and stretched his legs out, wondering if the reason Brad spends all his time at Tyler’s is because he has the most uncomfortable couch in human existence. He informs Brad of this observation and Marshy kicks Tyler’s legs off, sitting himself down on the other end, giving him that look that Tyler has come to learn means he is not getting away with changing the subject that easily. 

“Your mum seems pretty cool Tyler, I don’t get why you’re so scared of telling her”. 

“She knows now”, Tyler points out, playing with a loose thread on his shirt, wondering what Brad was expecting to achieve by going on about how scared he was of talking to his parents. It’s done now, he knows it was stupid to be so worried about talking to his mum, he doesn’t need it rubbed in his face. 

“I meant the other thing”. Now Tyler is just even more confused. “What other thing?” he asks. 

“The being into guys as well as girls thing. You’d probably feel better if you told her”, Marshy says quietly, his eyes soft as he looks at Tyler. 

Tyler freezes. How the fuck does Brad know about that? 

“I came back into our room when we were in Nashville and you were with that guy. You didn’t see me, so I hid in the bathroom until you went to sleep because I didn’t want to embarrass you and didn’t say anything. And you can’t deny you’ve check out Lundqvist a few times”. 

Brad looks over to see Tyler looking down at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his eyes, and obviously unable speak. He hopes that Tyler really isn’t silly enough to think this changes them because they’re Segs and Marshy for god’s sake, nothing could change them. 

“I mean, it’s Lundqvist, Segs, I can’t blame you, the guy’s hot”. 

Tyler is still looking at the floor as if the carpet is the most fascinating shit he’s ever laid eyes on, and Brad sighs, wondering how on earth he still doesn’t get that it doesn’t matter to him. 

Brad’s voice drops so quiet it’s barely above a whisper. “Tyler, it really doesn’t matter to me. I’d be a hypocrite if it did, put it that way”. 

Tyler’s eyes have never been wider than they have been at that moment as he looks at Brad. “Are you telling me that you’re........you too?”

“Yeah. I’ve known since I was about 14? Told my family when I was 16 and they were OK with it, a little surprised, but totally fine with it and it felt nice not have to hide it”. 

“Serious?”

“Yeah. Your mum seemed really cool on the phone and every time I’ve met her in Toronto when we’ve played in Toronto she’s been really nice. You should think about telling her”. 

Tyler nods. It would be nice not to have to hide things, and it was pretty nice now that he didn’t have to keep hiding it from Marshy. “I’ll think about it. Thanks man”. 

“You know I mean it when I said I’m here if you need anything, right?”. 

Tyler nodded again. He already knew that, and judging by look of sheer adoration on Brad’s face as he looked down at Rosie, who had her tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb, he was going to be there for a long time to come. 

Tyler was starting to think Rosie liked Brad even more than she liked him and strangely enough, he really didn’t mind. 

 

**4\. Because you treat Rosie like a princess and spoil her like she is your own daughter.**

Brad Marchand was definitely one of those unofficial uncles who lived to spoil his best friend’s daughter. She’d accumulated a more extensive wardrobe than both his sisters combined and even though his family had contributed a few cute dresses to her collection, a good 90% of the now overflowing drawers he’d dedicated to Rosie’s clothing had been given to her by Brad. It seemed like every time Brad left Tyler’s apartment, he returned with a book and present for Rosie. Her copy of “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” was now part of a collection of at least 30 books and Brad seemed to have made it his personal mission to read the little girl every fairytale and children’s story in existence. 

Tyler would rather die than admit it to anyone, but one of his favourite things to do was to sit on the couch holding Rosie while Brad read her a book. He knows Brad would feel stupid if Tyler were to tell him, but he was actually a pretty good story teller. Brad must enjoy it as well, since he is on Tyler’s couch every night, always a new book in his hand. Tyler sometimes thought about asking Brad why he wasn’t out clubbing with Looch and Adam, but never did, scared that he’d make Brad feel like an idiot and he’d stop wanting to hang out with him and Rosie. But he couldn’t help wanting to know if Brad loved being around Rosie, around him as much as he loved having Brad around. He’d all but moved in on the mattress in the spare room. Tyler could count the nights Marchy spent at his own apartment in the last six weeks on one hand. Every time Brad finished saying the words “Happily Ever After”, they were happy, at least, Tyler knew he was happy. 

Rosie’s passport arrived in the post, and Tyler felt a pang of guilt when he looked at her date of birth on the document. He had to make an educated guess as to what her birthday was by adding nine months onto the night he was in the bar with Brad and Looch and he’d put Boston as her birthplace, even though he knew it could just have easily been Providence. 

When he’d asked his doctor if there was a way of knowing her real birthday, she shook her head. He kinda hated himself for it because it made him feel like a shitty father and like he was failing his daughter. Brad notices Tyler staring at the passport and walked over to him, taking it from his friend’s hands. 

“You’re still feeling bad about it?”. 

Tyler shakes his head, but Brad knows better. “Segs, I’ll repeat what I told you when you sent off the paperwork. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know her exact birthdate because we’ve picked her one and we will spoil her so rotten that she won’t even have time to wonder if she was really born on March 24 or not.” 

Tyler relaxes slightly, but Brad knows he still isn’t convinced, and continues. “As for the birthplace, what matters is where she grows up. And even though she’ll grow up in Boston, we will make damn sure she stays Canadian and doesn’t start calling herself American”. 

Tyler smiles, not really sure if it was Brad’s reasoning that caused it, or the way he kept saying “we” when talking about Rosie’s future. 

With his daughter’s passport all settled, he could finally take Rosie up to Brampton to meet the rest of his family. His mother was beside herself in excitement, his father seemed almost proud his boy got a girl pregnant and his little sisters fought over who got to hold her first. His friends were surprisingly cool with the news, when his oldest friend told him that he was available to beat up any guy who came within a 10 metre radius of her once she was school aged and was going to buy her a Blue Jays onesie, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to tell his Bruins teammates about Rosie when he went back to Boston.

On their 4th day in Toronto, Rosie is in a cranky mood and Tyler when he receives a text message from Brad demanding that he “get my lil princess & ur ugly fucking face on skype loser”. He texts him back informing him that his little princess is being cranky, but Brad replies straight away that he doesn’t mind, and it’s not exist. Tyler relents, pulling out his laptop and dialling Brad for a video chat. 10 minutes later, Rosie’s crying has stopped, the sound of Brad’s voice somehow snapping her out of her bad mood, and Tyler can’t stop laughing at the way her eyes look around the room, clearly trying to find where her Uncle Brad is. 

Tyler closes the laptop after half an hour, still laughing at Brad recalling the story of how he ended up drunk after just an hour in Looch’s company because all the time spent around him has made him soft. Just before they ended their chat, Brad asked him if he’d given any thought to what they talked about when they were at his apartment last. 

He had nothing to lose right?

Tyler puts Rosie in her crib, and heads to the living room, and sits on the couch next to his mother. 

“She seems happier”. His mother’s smile is warm, and he is relieved that even when Rosie is cranky, his parents don’t get annoyed at the noise in the house or tell him what a useless job he is doing with the baby. 

He tells his mum that he Skyped with Brad for a while and she smiles knowingly, eyebrows raised slighty. “What’s going on there, Tyler?”

“Nothing. He is just my best mate and Rosie adores him, probably because she has more clothes than like, a model does thanks to him”. He can feel his cheeks burning up though and he is pretty sure his mother is starting to clue on. 

“Tyler, I’m your mother. You may be able to fool yourself, but you can’t fool me”.

Yeah. Marshy was right. His mother was cluing on. 

Tyler takes a deep breath, saying a silent prayer that his mother would still love him ten seconds from now. “Would you hate me if I told you I’m into both girls and guys”.

“No, I wouldn’t. I love you no matter what. “

His mother can sense her son isn’t really ready to talk about, so she doesn’t force it any further, she just puts her arm around Tyler, hugging him against her side. She kisses the top of his head and tells him that she can talk to her about it any time he is ready, even if it is 4am in the morning. 

\---

When Tyler arrives back in Boston, he notices Rosie’s crib isn’t in his room anymore and the place looks like it has actually been cleaned. Confused, decides to check the spare room, and his eyes nearly pop out of his head when he notices the transformation that’s taken place. Gone is the mattress that Brad would sleep on practically every night and the boxes Tyler had never bothered to unpack when he moved in. Instead, the room has been transformed into a baby nursery, with soft green paint on the walls, a new white crib with pink and white bedding, and cute princess themed prints on the wall. He walked over to the white dresser in the corner, where his daughter’s clothes have been folded and placed neatly inside. His eyes fall on the framed picture on top of the dresser though, and as soon as he realizes the picture is an adorable one that Brad took like a creeper the first time he held Rosie, he knows who is responsible, the suspicion confirmed as he leaves he room and notices the words “Marshy was here, 2012” scrawled in sharpie under the light switch. He rolled his eyes affectionately. Only Brad would destroy the wall with Sharpie. He really was the greatest, best and most awesome friend ever.

He goes into the living room to see Marshy on the couch, who must have let himself in when Tyler was checking out Rosie’s new room. 

“So um, wow, thank you”, he says, sitting down next to his friend. 

Brad shrugs casually, “Don’t mention it. I wasn’t having my Rosiecheeks sleeping in your smelly ass room forever”

Tyler gasps, feigning mock offense even if Marshy had a bit of a point, because he really does hate cleaning his room and he probably should open a window from time to time. “My room doesn’t smell, you dick.” Brad just raises an eyebrow and Tyler laughs and is speaking again before he can stop himself. 

“ So where are you going to sleep now? I saw you threw out the mattress?”. 

“I have an apartment.....”

(Tyler’s tries not to let his face fall) 

“......or this couch I’m sitting on is pretty comfortable, way more comfortable than mine”. 

(Tyler can’t stop the smile, but that’s OK, because he doesn’t really want to anyway.)

**5\. Because Rosie loves you. ~~Because I Love you.~~**

 

If Tyler thought being knocked out of the playoffs by Montreal was the shittiest feeling in the world, it was only because he hadn’t yet experienced the feeling of his baby girl being sick. Rosie had developed a temperature and ear infection, and the stuff the doctor had given him for her would wear off long before she was due for another dose and she’d just lie in her crib sobbing. It ripped his fucking heart out because he was so helpless to do anything for her. He’d barely slept in two whole days, even though his mother had assured him three times over the phone that she would be fine within a week, and “no, Tyler, she is not going to die, it’s normal”. He also felt sick with worry and the stress was making him irritable and snappy. 

The latter was how he found himself lying on his living room floor, wondering if he’d just ruined the most important friendship in his life. Tyler had been trying to get the Tylenol down while Brad held Rosie still, yet just as he got the spoon to her mouth, she squirmed and half of it missed, and Tyler snapped at Brad. He regretted it straight away, the stupid fucking words about what a useless idiot his friend was and how he should just get the hell away from him since he is making everything worse. Brad got off the couch and handed Rosie over to Tyler, taking his keys and leaving all without saying a word.

Tyler wakes up, a glance at his phone telling him it is nearly 7pm, his stomach instantly filling with dread as he realizes the last time he remembers is 3pm. That was nearly 4 hours ago, anything could have happened to Rosie in that time since she was sick. God, what if she had died? A million awful thoughts are running through Tyler’s head as he races down the hall, the trip to the spare room feeling a mile long rather than a few metres. The door is open and Tyler freezes in the doorway as he sees Marshy leaning over the crib, talking to Rosie, oblivious to Tyler’s presence.

 

“Your temperature is starting to go down, thank god. I was so worried you know princess, I love you so much and I love your Daddy too and seeing you both so crappy isn’t much fun you know? Even if your Daddy tells me he meant it when he told me to go away, I still love you, you know that right? You should go easy on him and get better soon, because he’s so stressed over you and.....”

Brad looks up, like a deer caught in the headlights as Tyler approaches him from behind, grabbing his shoulders and backing him against the wall, the back of his head colliding with the patchwork print of a castle hanging from the wall. Brad braces himself for a fight, expecting Tyler to punch him in the face for coming back after he told him to go away. 

What he doesn’t expect is for Tyler to kiss him. 

But that’s just what Tyler does, pressing his lips firm against Brad’s, tongue tracing his bottom lip, nipping slightly before pulling away just as Brad’s fingers curl around his neck to pull him closer.

“I’m sorry Brad, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”.

Brad’s stomach seizes up instantly, he might have totally into the whole kissing thing, but Tyler obviously regrets it straight away, and that thought just sucks. He’d been wanting Tyler to do that for weeks now. Brad tries to move away to leave the room and diesppear from Tyler’s life for good, but Tyler still has him pinned against the wall, armed braced on either side of him, and Brad really doesn’t like the idea of having to physically push Tyler off him. 

“I mean, I’m sorry I snapped at you this afternoon, I was an asshole to you and you were trying to help me and I was a douche about it. I’m sorry”. 

The relief washes over Brad, because even if Tyler was in the wrong to snap at him, he doesn’t need an apology, doesn’t want one, he just wants to keep being a part of their lives and is glad things between them are OK. 

Brad moves his arms to circle around Tyler’s waist, pulling his friend’s body closer against his own. “It’s OK. We’re OK”. Tyler smiles before leaning down to kiss Brad again, more demanding this time, the kiss quickly descending into a frantic and messy clash of teeth and tongues. Tyler grinds his hips down against Brad’s, who responds by pushing him off his body. 

Tyler breathes heavily, looking down at his friend, hurt written all across his face. “I....I thought you wanted this”. 

Brad threads his fingers through Tyler’s, reassuring him as he laughs and shakes his head.

“I do you idiot, it’s just that our girl is right there and no kid wants to see her Dads go at it”. 

Brad’s head skips a beat the moment the words come out. Like, literally skips a beat. 

(He had just put his fucking foot in it so bad. Just because he loved Rosie as if she was his own daughter didn’t make her his daughter and Tyler was her only father and her other parent was in Louisiana or Providence or somewhere. Tyler was going to be pretty pissed at him for overstepping a pretty critical boundary. He was probably going to tell him to fuck off now, and he had every right to do so.)

Tyler’s heart skips a beat. Like, literally skips a beat too. 

(Brad had just referred to his daughter as his own. He knew Marshy loved Rosie, but hearing him call her his little girl was one of the best things ever. And Brad was right. Rosie wasn’t just Tyler’s little girl, he was their little girl. Brad had been there all along, within hours of Tyler meeting her, hell, he’d be the first one of them to hole him and he’d helped him raise her. He really was just like a Dad to her, and the only thing he hated about it was how long it took him to realize it.)

Brad opens his mouth to apologise, but doesn’t get the chance to speak because Tyler beats him to it.

“You’re right”. 

Brad looks at him. 

“She isn’t just my daughter Marchy, she’s our daughter. You’ve been here from the beginning, you made her this room, you brought her like all her stuff, and she totally loves you even more than me, and I don’t even mind. I can’t blame her. She’s got pretty good taste”. 

“I paid people to do the room, all I did was pick the design from the book of pictures they had and vandalize the wall”, Brad blurts out.

Tyler laughs, because he suspected that all along. Brad could barely put the lid on a Tim Horton’s cup without burning himself, let alone assemble a crib, dresser and change table. “It still counts.”

“So. Um. Our daughter?”, Brad asks shakily, needing that one last piece of confirmation so he could breathe properly again. 

“Yeah. Our daughter.”

Brad grins and practically drags Tyler into his (their?) bedroom, pushing him down onto the bed and ridding him of his clothes, saying a silent prayer that Rosie decides which she really needs right now is a nice, long nap.

\--

Two days later, Tyler finds the piece of paper with the five reasons he was planning to mention when asking Marshy if he'd be Rosie's godfather. He folds it up and puts it in his wallet. He doesn't need it anymore. She doesn't need a godfather when she has the best second Dad he could ask for.


End file.
